


Word (Or Scuttlebutt) Travels Fast

by Opalgirl



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalgirl/pseuds/Opalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard is not impressed with how quickly details of her personal life have traveled around the Normandy, despite her best attempts to keep her private life private. Awkward conversations ensue, on all sides. fem!Shepard/Thane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Garrus! <3\. Sorry. I just really like how Garrus' voice came out in this piece, for some reason.

“So, Commander. You and Thane, huh?” Joker swivelled his chair around and faced her.

Shepard made a concentrated effort to keep from gaping at her pilot. “How did you hear about that?” They’d tried to keep their affections confined to quarters, where there were no prying eyes and no photographers.

Joker just shrugged. “The walls have ears and eyes, Commander. Especially on this ship.”

EDI flashed to life on Joker’s left. “I assure you, Shepard. I do not engage in idle gossip.”

“I didn’t think so. Thank you, EDI.”

“Nah, it wasn’t her.” Joker adjusted his ballcap. “But, really. You two are the worst-kept secret onboard. Thane just gives himself away every time he talks about you. Um. At least, that’s what Kasumi says.”

“Good to know that my private life is out in the open,” she grumbled, shaking her head a little.

“Hey, I know you like aliens, ‘cause you keep collecting them… but do you really like them _that_ much, Commander?”

“ _Joker._ ” That was just going a _little_ too far for her—she didn’t want to think about Joker thinking about… _that_.

“Never mind. Forget I asked. Didn’t really want to know, anyway.” He grinned at her. “Hey, even if I’m not getting any—‘cause the leg braces are a _real_ turn-on, don’t you know?—it’s nice to know someone else is.”

Oh, she was _not_ having this conversation. She just _wasn’t_. “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

“Yeah, scratch that. I don’t wanna know. Really don’t wanna know.”

EDI piped up once again. “My calculations and analysis of vocal patterns inform me that what Jeff is _attempting_ to say is that he’s pleased with this new development in your personal life, Shepard.”

“ _EDI_.” Joker shook a warning finger at the AI.

“Yes, Jeff?”

“What did I say about trying to analyze humans using math?”

“My memory banks stored that particular conversation as ending with ‘that’s creepy-weird.’ I am not entirely certain what that means, Jeff.”

“That _means_ , EDI,” Joker said slowly, displaying an amount of patience Shepard had never thought her helmsman possessed, “ _don’t do that_.”

“I fail to see the problem, Jeff.”

“Humans don’t _like_ being reduced to numbers and math and algorithms, EDI. We’re more complex than that.”

“At the absolute basic level, you are not, Jeff. You do have highly specific patterns in behaviour that extend across your species…”

“EDI, shush. I don’t want a math lesson.”

“Aw, Joker. I’m touched.” She wasn’t able to resist teasing him and distracting him from an impending argument with the AI. “You’re trying to congratulate me, aren’t you?”

He paused, obviously uncertain of how to answer. “Uh. Maybe?”

“Good answer,” she replied, grinning. “Twenty minutes ETA to the relay, you said?”

“Fifteen now, Commander.” As he spoke, he swivelled the chair back around to face the controls. That was Joker in his element, at the helm of a powerful ship—he wasn’t a people person, just as he claimed.

“Good. Carry on, Joker.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”

***

She took lunch with Ken and Gabby—who had taken to calling themselves “Shepard’s greasemonkeys”—and Tali. Thankfully, none of them seemed to be interested in her love life. That or they already knew what they wanted to know.

 _Should’ve asked Joker just how widespread this news was,_ she thought, rising from the table.

“You’re still aces in my book, Shepard,” Gardner commented when she handed her lunch tray to him. “I hear Krios thinks so, too,” he added, in a lower voice.

At her age, with her experience, she was _well_ beyond blushing. But damned if it didn’t make her feel awkward, like she was back in high school. “Maybe he does. You’ll have to ask him.”

“Tell him to give you a night off once in a while, eh?” The mess sergeant waved a hand at her and Shepard shook her head, walking past him and up to the main battery. It would be a few hours before they arrived at their destination and it’d been a while since she’d visited with Garrus, after all.

“Shepard,” her old friend said, when she entered.

“You got a minute?” She sat down on one of the empty crates in the room and crossed one leg over the other.

“Sure.” Garrus leaned back against the railing and looked her over. “You know, your greasemonkeys were up here this morning talking to me about engine throughput? I didn’t think they’d ever come up from engineering.”

She sighed. “They aren’t “my greasemonkeys”, Garrus. Donnelly just thinks that’s funny.”

“He does seem to have an interesting sense of humour,” the turian mused, tapping his talons idly against the rail. “You and Krios, huh? I didn’t see _that_ coming.”

 _Oh, here we go again._ “First Joker, then Gardner, now you. Where _are_ you getting your information?”

Garrus’ mandibles twitched in what she’d always thought was the turian equivalent of a grin. “Shepard. You underestimate me. I was trained to watch things, to observe. I’m actually quite _good_ at it. I know that on your watch, I _usually_ just blow things up, but…”

“Figures. Scuttlebutt’ll always get you—that’s what my father always said.”

“Although,” Garrus amended, sounding thoughtful, “you _did_ make a valiant attempt at keeping your personal life private.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Key word there being ‘attempt.’”

“Hey, it happens, Shepard.” Garrus shrugged, the movement looking a little strange. “Especially in close quarters. It seems to me that you’re _not_ the topic of gossip. Most of the crew seems happy for you.”

She looked away and studied the wall behind her old friend. “Mmm. Joker just tried to congratulate me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That was… _weird_.”

“Joker? Congratulating you for having a love life? Are you _sure_ we’re talking about the same Joker?” Garrus asked, his tone light as he turned to fiddle at the console. After a moment he looked back at her, his expression serious. “Shepard—oh, damn it. I was _never_ any good at this. Has Thane told you he’s dying?”

She nodded, remembering that conversation. “He told me that when I first brought him aboard. He’s never been anything but honest with me, Garrus.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” The turian held up his taloned hands. “I wasn’t accusing him of deceiving you. I just—I’ve _been_ there, Shepard. More than once.” He paced a tight circle around the room and turned back to her, concern showing plainly in his eyes. “I had no idea if you knew what you were getting into or if you knew you were in love with a dying man.”

 _Garrus? Worried about her?_ But then again, he knew her better than almost anyone on this ship. They’d been through a hell of a lot—Saren, geth, the mess on Virmire, his hunt for Sidonis—together. She smiled a little.

“It’s not the _smartest_ idea I’ve ever had, no,” she confided, “but it’s not something I could help. I’ll take what time I have with him. I’m a tough girl, Garrus.”

“You don’t have to tell _me_ that,” he muttered. “I saw you get spaced, remember? And you’re sitting right here.”

“Lots of cybernetics, a few billion credits, and some clever science is keeping me sitting here,” she continued. “I knew what I was going into. I know I’m setting myself up to be hurt, loving a dying man—and I did it anyway. I’m not having visions of retirement and drell-human hybrid babies, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good to hear it.” Garrus shook his head a little. “At least you’re not charging into it blind like you normally do.”

“ _Hey!_ Watch it, Vakarian!” She jokingly threatened, raising a fist.

He laughed, mandibles twitching again. “Or what?”

“Or this cyborg marine may just have to kick your ass!” Garrus’ laughter was contagious and she was trying not to laugh herself as she spoke.

“No, don’t do that. Save it for the Reapers.”

“Yeah. Good point. And I _always_ have a plan.”

Garrus made a sound which might have been a snort. “Shepard, ‘you stay here while I rush forward and get shot in the face’ _does not_ count as a plan.”

“Of course it does,” she protested. “It made sense at the time. I never intended to get shot—d’you really think I got as far as I did because I was _pretty_ , Vakarian?”

Garrus considered, mandibles twitching rapidly. “Well, I don’t know much about how the human military operates, Shepard, but…” he trailed off into laughter again.

“Besides, I think Chakwas was getting bored over there in that nice new medbay with nobody to patch up,” she continued. “Gotta keep her busy somehow or she’ll terrorize Mordin.”

“You should tell her that, next time she has to patch you up. You ever see the good doctor angry?”

“Yep. Should’ve heard her after you caught that missile to the face.”

Garrus’s hand went to the scarred side of his face instinctively. “I _know_ ,” he said, his voice very dry. “I heard it first.”

She pushed herself off the crate and, as she stood, rolled her head and shoulders back and forth a couple of times. “I should go.” She nodded towards the door. “Let you get back to work.”

“Shepard?”

“Yeah?” She paused, waiting for him to speak.

“You might not have risen through the ranks in the military based on looks—I _know_ you didn’t—but, I, uh, as I understand it, in human terms, Thane’s lucky.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “ _Garrus_ , you smooth-talker, you. Should set you loose on the _Dark Star_ when this is all over. You’d be a hit.”

“That’s _optimistic_ of you, Shepard,” he called, as the door slid closed.

***

She was bound for the elevator, after checking in with Miranda, and fully meaning to go up and file her reports when Mordin flagged her down.

“Shepard. Would like to speak with you,” the salarian said, gesturing to his lab. “In private.”

She had the distinct feeling that Mordin was trying to stop her becoming the subject of more scuttlebutt, but doubted how successful he’d be. “Lead the way, Mordin,” she said, nodding.

“Have become aware of your personal relationship with drell,” the professor said, once they were isolated in the lab. He folded his arms and nodded. “Judging by reaction, ship’s gossip accurate?”

“Got it in one, Mordin.” She stayed standing, watching him at the terminal. “I don’t know how the news got around but, yeah.”

“Am speaking purely from a medical perspective, Shepard. Am uninterested in gossip.  Can offer advice, if needed.”

“Uh.” This was bad, almost like learning the basics of human reproduction when she’d been an awkward youngster.

He fixed her with unblinking black eyes. “Medical perspective. Am doctor, Shepard. Professionalism and confidentiality paramount. If you would rather human—or female—can forward suggestions to Doctor Chakwas.”

No, she didn’t want to have this conversation with Mordin. And she didn’t want to have it with Chakwas either. “Uh, I think we’ve got it figured it out, thanks.”

“Conception impossible; drell-human hybrid offspring not viable, so contraception not a concern. No diseases communicable between species. Would be cautious with… oral contact. Could result in hallucinations.”

 _Oh, god_. If she’d felt like an awkward teenager _earlier_ , it paled in comparison to how she felt now. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mordin. Thanks. Guess you don’t want me to start seeing things, huh?”

Mordin just blinked at her. “No. Result is undesirable, Shepard. Need you to be lucid.”

“Yeah, I need to be lucid,” she agreed. “We’re done here?”

“Yes. Will be here if you have further questions.”

She practically fled the lab, wanting to put a wall between herself and the overly-inquisitive--yet well-meaning--salarian and thought that at the very least, Thane might find this mess amusing. He looked as if he could do with a laugh, some days.

She knew how word travelled aboard starships, but she’d honestly thought they’d been discreet to the point of near-paranoia. Well, if half the ship seemingly knew (and, according to Garrus, seemed to approve), perhaps she didn’t need to be so secretive. She wasn’t about to flaunt her new relationship because that just begged for trouble, but….

“Commander?” Kelly queried from her post as Shepard passed. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

She decided that slamming her forehead into a nearby surface would be a stupid idea, even if it _was_ tempting; who knew how cybernetics reacted to something like that? Instead, she put on a smile and turned to her yeoman, anticipating the topic of conversation. “Yeah, of course. What’s on your mind, Kelly?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Shepard,” Miranda said, her fingers never faltering as she typed at her terminal, a couple of afternoons later. “I’ve heard that you have a… paramour aboard.”

 _Only Miranda_. She sighed and tucked her hands behind her back, straightening to attention. “What do you want to know, Miranda?”

The other woman smiled and pushed her chair back, rising to her feet. “Nothing. It’s none of my business. It was… intriguing, though. During Project Lazarus, we were uncertain if we could give you back full emotional capacity, but it seems we succeeded.”

 _Of course. I’m nothing but a really expensive science project to her_. Shepard bit back those thoughts; Miranda had proven her loyalty, proved herself useful and that just wasn’t fair. “It seems you did,” she agreed. “I’m not full cyborg yet.”

“Indeed.” The operative’s boots clicked on the floor as she walked to the window and back. “Thane, hmm? Interesting choice, Shepard.”

She bristled, fighting down her soldier’s instincts to reach for a weapon. “I’m glad you think so, Miranda.”

“And I do imagine you’re tired of being questioned about the matter.”

“You have no idea.”

Miranda’s smile bordered on a smirk, and she leaned one hip against her desk. “Jacob’s disappointed, I must say. He carried a bit of a torch for you, Shepard. But he’ll get over it—or I’ll make him get over it.”

Shepard snorted. “You’re _kidding_ me, right?”

“I am not. I’m entirely serious.”

“Jacob can do a hell of a lot better than _me_. He needs someone who knows how to wear something besides combat boots and fatigues.”

“Mmm-hmm. I could agree with you there, but men never listen to reason. Although, some might find that attractive.”

 _Girl-talk with Miranda? No, I’m not doing this._ “I don’t know. My test usually involves seeing how they react to me in a hardsuit or covered in muck, blood, or slime.”

“For someone in your line of work, that sounds appropriate.” The operative returned to her seat and her terminal, and Shepard nodded.

“I’ll go. Let you get back to work.”

***

“ _Siha_?” Thane looked up when she settled in the chair across from him.

“Yeah, hi.” She smiled at him as he reached for her hands. “Did you know we’ve become scuttlebutt, you and me?”

The drell blinked and paused. “I am afraid I am not familiar with that term,” he admitted.

Of course. “Sorry—sometimes I still forget I’m not dealing with navy personnel. Short version? It’s an old Earth term for gossip aboard ship. Anyway, every time I’ve run into someone the last couple of days, all they want to talk about is me and you.”

“Gossip. Hmm. That would explain why Joker has been giving me such strange looks. I had thought I’d grown another head or something else unusual.”

She rolled her eyes. “He would, too. I guess most of the ship knows. At least, that’s what they tell me.” She shrugged and added, “I shouldn’t care, but in the Alliance there’s a rule against fraternization. If you’re going to romance a crewmate, you’d better do it quietly and keep it out of sight. But because of how small military starships are that’s damned near impossible. It’s… habit, I guess. Even though this ship isn’t really military.”

Thane let go of her hands and nodded seriously. “If you live your life by those rules, it is not easy to break away from them, _siha_. I understand your want for privacy.”

“I don’t know whether to be touched that they care enough to be interested or sad that _I’m_ the most interesting gossip they can come up with. Because, really? I’m _not_ all that interesting.”

Thane smiled slightly. “I am inclined to disagree.”

“You’re biased, Krios,” she replied, tucking a bit of her hair that had slipped free out of her face. “Extremely so.”

“Indeed. However,” he continued, his eyes bright, “I know more than one person on this ship who would disagree with you.”

“Sure, I’m a hero,” Shepard agreed, playing along, “and I get the job done, but besides that, I’m boring as hell. I know that.”

“Consider, _siha_ , that everyone on this ship followed you into a suicide mission. You have rescued most of them. I imagine that their interest is more than idle gossip.”

“Mmm, maybe. Maybe I should forget about work for five minutes and really shock ‘em, you think? Give them something else to talk about?”

Thane laughed, coughed, and then reached for her hands once more. “You could,” he agreed. “It would be surprising to them, I imagine.”

She grinned and twined her fingers with his, her skin rubbing against his scales. “Nah. Might distract them. So I’d better get back to it before they come looking for me.”

Thane released her, looking up at her fondly. “Shall we visit this evening, _siha_?”

Shepard bent down and kissed him impulsively. “Actually, I’ve been invited down to play poker with Ken and Gabby and Tali. Donnelly still thinks he’ll win back what he lost to me the first time we played. You could join us, if you’re up for that.”

“A game of strategy,” Thane remarked, nodding. “You would be well-suited to that.”

“And a bit of luck,” she added. “I don’t seem to be lacking that either. So, you in? Don’t think I’ll go easy on you. And Tali’s a tough opponent—you can’t read her face because of the helmet.”

“I think I could use something like that, _siha_ , with you and your ‘greasemonkeys’.”

“They aren’t—oh, never mind.” She gave up. The name had apparently stuck, thank-you-very-much Donnelly. “If you’re in, come on down to engineering. And now I’m definitely going back to work—I’ll see you later, Thane.”

He coughed again, harder, and Shepard resisted the urge to fuss over him. “Farewell, _siha_.”

 _He can’t ever just say ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you later’, can he?_ She wondered, turning back towards the elevator only to very nearly run smack into Kasumi.

“Hey, Shep.” The thief winked, her face concealed beneath her hood. “Back to work, hm?”

Kasumi was perhaps the only person in the universe who had even thought she could get away with calling Shepard ‘Shep.’ “Yep. That’s where I’m going.”

“Visiting with your drell, I see. He gets all… _moony_ over you, Shep. It’s the strangest thing, but it’s adorable. Kind of sad, too.”

“Yeah.” _Damn elevator, where the hell is it?_

Kasumi laughed, the sound echoing just a little. “And now you’re cursing the elevator because you want it to get here so you can get away from me. I’ll stop teasing you. Just—congratulations.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Kasumi. I guess.”

As quickly as she’d come, the little woman disappeared, and Shepard shook her head. Maybe now that she’d gotten these conversations out of the way, they’d stop. Maybe.


End file.
